Witch's Honor
by xphile.1
Summary: Set during 'Head' - explains how Fiona got the dog, Endora. Shippy stuff with Myrtle, too. Rated T for language and suggestive themes.


"My visions...they're gone," Cordelia said quietly.

Myrtle embraced the lithe woman in her arms again, rubbing a soothing hand over her back. "Oh, little bird. You were always perfect. Go rest, _please_." With another encouraging squeeze of her arms, Myrtle released Cordelia to look at her handiwork again. The mismatched eyes were glossy with unshed tears.

Cordelia's lips pursed, and she nodded silently. "Thank you, Auntie Myrtle," her voice still despondent, Cordelia turned and left the room leaving the two women alone. A fleeting thought in her mind was that she hoped neither would fatally injure the other, but they had seemed to take her pleas to be civil to each other to heart.

Fiona exhaled audibly, blowing wafts of smoke toward Myrtle as she perched on the straightback sofa. It was more for decoration than comfort, but she didn't intend on sitting for long. "Don't mistake this for weakness, but thank you for helping my Delia." Crossing one very toned leg over the other, Fiona angled her body on the sofa so she could look at Myrtle without craning her neck.

Indifferent, Myrtle faced Fiona, arms crossing over her chest. "I did what any good mother would do for their wrongly disfigured child." _Minus the poison. And the melon baller. Oh, and the limb chopping and acid._ Myrtle smirked at the thoughts that tumbled in her head.

"And I would have done the same had this damn cancer not drained my body." Another small cloud of smoke was sent toward Myrtle as Fiona stood, walking around the sofa. "Not sure what you were chopping up in that vision, but come on, Lizzie Borden."

Myrtle gave a wry smile, trailing after Fiona. "I'm not getting into any vehicles with you. New Jersey would truly be the death of me."

"I won't exile you, at least not yet." Fiona held the door open for Myrtle, watching her practically float through the doorway. "We're gonna take a little walk and chat." She took a long drag of the cigarette as she shut the door behind her, then waved her hand nonchalantly at the wrist to lock it.

"My daughter, your 'little baby bird' is right," Fiona said as they walked down the sidewalk toward town. She linked her arm with Myrtle's as they fell into a leisurely stroll together. "The real danger is out here, Myrtle. I'm sorry." It was short and sweet, but she said it. Mostly because of the mysterious smile Myrtle had given her back at the house, but also because facing certain death had made her rethink her approach to life.

"For...?" Myrtle seemed to have a permanent smile on her fire engine red lips.

"Don't be such a bitch. I'm sorry for accusing you. The cancer, the drugs, and Delia's...incident...it was a lot of shit to deal with all at once." Fiona paused to lift the cigarette to her lips for a moment, letting the remnants of smoke tumble from her lips. "I suppose I had you on my mind and thought I had seen you in the hospital."

"Apology accepted." Myrtle reached with her free arm to pluck the cigarette from Fiona's hand as she was about to take another drag from it. Myrtle inhaled from the toxic stick, ignoring the eyeroll from her companion. "Consider this part of my payment. I'll come up with the other favor later. This time _you'll_ be the one that begs." She inhaled slower this time savoring the potent taste of the tobacco.

Shaking her head, Fiona chuckled. "Myrtle, I am most impressed. I didn't think you had it in you." She tilted toward her, drawing Myrtle close by the crook of her elbow as they continued walking. "It's awfully stimulating," she said in a quiet murmur near Myrtle's cheek.

Unsure of what Fiona was referring to and idly wondering if she still held enough strength to hear her all of her thoughts in detail, Myrtle simply gave a knowing smile while finishing the poached cigarette.

"Ah, here we are." Fiona escorted Myrtle up a few steps into a small shop. The woodsy smell of pine and cedar hung in the air, and the cacophony of dogs barking and birds chirping drummed on as the two women made their way inside. Myrtle slipped away from Fiona's grasp, moving toward a large cage of birds for a closer look.

"Can I help you?" A young man approached them.

"I hope so. I'm looking for a guard dog." Fiona shifted her gaze among the caged animals, seeing mostly smaller dogs and cats.

"Um, sorry ma'am, we don't really sell guard dogs. You're welcome to meet our rescues, though."

"Well, Christ, just show me the big dogs, then." Fiona huffed. She started to follow the clerk to the back of the store, tapping Myrtle on the shoulder and beckoning her to come along with a finger.

"These are all adoptable except the one in the corner. She damn near bit my hand off when I tried to feed her. I guess her last owner was a bit of a jerk to her so she's not too friendly toward men." The clerk shrugged his shoulders, eyeing the dog warily. The shepherd was prone in her kennel, watching the humans with keen eyes.

With cautious steps, Fiona approached the kennel then crouched in front of it. She held her palm against the thin metal bars. "Hey, girl. How would you like to come home with me?" The dog sniffed her hand curiously then licked Fiona's fingertips.

"Seems perfectly fine to me," Fiona said, rising to her feet and smoothing her skirt. "We'll take her."

The boy began to protest and Fiona waved her hand lazily at her side. "She's going with me, for free, along with a complimentary bag of food."

Nodding with a blank stare, the clerk stumbled backward. "Yes, of course, ma'am. That's no problem at all."

Bristling at the title of "ma'am" for the second time in the last five minutes, Fiona turned around to look for Myrtle. "Can you stop being a crazy cat lady for one day and find me a damn leash?"

Myrtle threw a sidelong glance over her shoulder at Fiona, fingers wiggling inside of a cage full of kittens. "Only if I can use it on you later." Attention back on the playful kittens, Myrtle cooed at them, ignoring Fiona's demand for a moment.

"It better be leather, then." Hands on her hips, Fiona tapped her foot impatiently.

With a final wiggle of her digits, Myrtle withdrew her hand from the cage to seek out a leash and collar. Moments later she was at Fiona's side with a black leather leash and training collar. "Here, it's just perfect for a bitch." Myrtle smirked, letting both items dangle from her gloved fingers.

"Somehow, I'm not surprised you would think that." Fiona snatched the leash and collar, and then moved to the kennel to place them on the dog after unlatching the door.

"Alright, let's get back home before Delia thinks I kidnapped you. Get a bag of food on the way out." Tightening the length of the leash and giving it a firm tug, Fiona strode out of the shop with the dog that growled as they walked past the young man. "Good girl," she whispered, bending at the waist to pat the dog's head.

Myrtle joined them on the sidewalk a few seconds later, a bag of dog food cradled in her arms. "Couldn't you have just got a parrot to guard the house? It could squawk to wake you. This bag is terribly heavy," Myrtle lamented as they walked the few blocks back to the house.

"Maybe next time. It might be entertaining to teach it to insult you incessantly." Fiona grinned. Watching the dog, Fiona tilted her head to the side thoughtfully. "She needs a name."

"How about Killer?" Myrtle gave a definitive nod of her head. She shifted the bag of food to her hip, starting to trail behind slightly.

"How...original."

"Monster? Shredder? Cerebus?"

"Myrtle, she's a female." Fiona cast a look of skeptical concern in Myrtle's direction. "Did the flames cook some of your brain cells?"

"I suppose it is possible. I have been rather out of sorts these last few days, to be perfectly honest. Why, my lunch guests hardly spoke when they saw I left a melon baller in the serving dish." A chilly chuckle escaped her lips.

"Christ, Myrtle...of all the twisted things..." Fiona grimaced, her telepathic powers weak but still able to pick up bits and pieces of Myrtle's thoughts from her earlier actions. She paused as they reached the gates if the house. "I'm almost afraid to let you near the leash now."

"We'll see about that. I did say you'd be the one begging; witch's honor." Myrtle's eyebrows lifted suggestively and she walked up the sidewalk to the house with the large bag in her arms.

A smirk slowly spread on Fiona's lips at the reference to _Bewitched_. "Endora. Perfect." After an affectionate pat to the dog's head, she followed Myrtle into the house with the coven's newest addition.


End file.
